


more

by Anonymous



Series: - i.n. [4]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Among Us, M/M, Smut, two faceless bros obsess over sykkuno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:02:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28513881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: He tries to compose himself—probably fails miserably, but he doesn’t give a shit anymore. Runs a hand raggedly through his curls and nearly punches the unmute button as he growls out a hoarse, “Yeah, I’m—I’m still here.”Dream, the utter bastard, asks, “Really? You were gone for a while. Did the recording wow you or something?”As if he doesn’t fucking know—as if he wasn’t the one to record—tomakeSykkuno let out those sinful sounds.“You could—you could say that,” Corpse croaks out. Dream chuckles. Chat spams like crazy.Or: Dream sends Corpse a video.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Sykkuno (Video Blogging RPF), Corpse Husband/Sykkuno (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: - i.n. [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2043526
Comments: 39
Kudos: 603
Collections: Anonymous





	more

_“Have you guys heard Sykkuno swear before? I haven’t.”_

  
Dream thinks of heat from the tips of his toes to the base of his neck; shaking thighs; blushing pink on a canvas of pale skin. 

  
He thinks of delicate fingers threaded through his, through his hair, at his back—fisted in sheets as Sykkuno lets out the prettiest little sounds beneath him. 

  
He thinks of whispered moans, shaken pleas—cries of his name at the tip of his Sykkuno’s tongue as pleasure wrecks through his body. 

  
He smirks; makes sure the timing’s right, simply watches as the meeting continues to talk about Sykkuno. 

  
And then—

  
“I have,” he says lightly—casually. As if speaking of the weather and not of the man who holds the attention of the entire lobby. 

  
_“Dream?”_ Rae screams. 

  
_“You’ve heard—? Sykkuno! Explain yourself!”_ Toast barks. _“How could you swear to Dream and not me?”_

  
_“I—Wait, g-guys, I—Dream! W-Why would you say that, oh my God,”_ Sykkuno stutters out, embarrassed at being put on the spot. He laughs nervously. _“I—I think he’s just trolling, ah—“_

  
“You calling me a liar, Sykkuno?” Dream teases. “Do you think I’d lie about something so huge?”

  
_“D-Dream!”_ He squeaks. _“I—I don’t—_ “

_“Oooooh, Sykkuno_ ,” Peter drawls out. _“Is there a dark side of you we don’t know about? Huh? Sykkuno! Answer us!”_ Leslie and Edison chime in, agreeing loudly. 

Sykkuno, ever the avoider, scrambles for a distraction. _“O-Oh, would you look at that! The time—guys, let’s skip, let’s skip,”_ he urges. _“Skip on seven, right?”_

_“This isn’t over Sykkuno!”_ Rae vows vehemently. _“Just you wait! I’m going to hear you swear with my own two ears!”_

_“Stay away from me!”_ Sykkuno wails as the meeting comes to an end and he’s running away from a determined Rae. 

Dream laughs, despite himself, fondness swelling in his chest. Sykkuno tends to do that to him. Soften his inner walls no matter what he does. 

The fondness quells, however, when he notices Corpse’s dark avatar hovering within his view range in the empty meeting room. 

“Corpse?” 

“Y-Yeah, ah.” He coughs. 

Knowing exactly where this is going, Dream’s lips curl into a lazy smile. 

There was a reason Corpse, out of the whole group, was quiet in the loud reveal of Dream’s shared information. 

“So you—you’ve heard Sykkuno swear?” Corpse asks, baritone voice tense with anticipation.

In the corner of his eye, Dream sees his chat spamming their excitement, hoping for more of the story. He considers them: chat, Corpse—Sykkuno. 

He hums. “Yeah, I have,” he murmurs. “Wanna hear it for yourself?”

Almost immediately, Corpse answers with an eager, “Yes! I mean—“ Another clearing of his throat. “Y-Yeah, if—if you—“

“I wouldn’t mind,” Dream tells him, slyly. He’s already reaching for his phone. The whole purpose for his little comment, after all, was for this reason alone. “But you should probably mute yourself when watching it.” He laughs a little. “Sykkuno would hate me if I exposed it to the entire world to hear.” 

“Y-Yeah, okay man. How did you—How’d you get him to swear anyway?”

Dream licks his lips—flicks his gaze to his phone. Remembers the nails digging down his back and a tight, _tight_ body so eagerly taking him in. 

He looks at his phone again—Twitter pulled up on the screen and Corpse’s account on display. 

“You’ll figure it out,” Dream tells him, heat curling within the pit of his stomach. “Check your DMs.”

* * *

When Corpse thinks of Sykkuno, he thinks of—

Sweet laughter. Pretty eyes and pretty hands, covering a pretty smile. Kindness within the calm, wrapped in one piece of human being too caring for his own good. Too caring for Corpse to believe is real. 

A pale neck tucked in a soft hoodie, perfect for kisses along veins. Long fingers—so much smaller than his. 

Innocence, in a way. When Corpse thinks of Sykkuno, he thinks of innocence. Goodness and purity and only of the best things in life. 

And so at the chance of hearing Sykkuno swear—a chance of Sykkuno completely blowing Corpse’s expectations away, as he does on a daily basis when he proves once again the perfect human being he is, Corpse—

Corpse _wants_. 

The DM pings his phone—audible, even to his chat, who are begging him to let them hear too. He presses mute not a second later—partly because he promised Dream and partly because—

Because he’s a selfish son of a bitch who hoards his moments with Sykkuno like a dragon does with their jewels. And as far as Corpse is concerned, Sykkuno is of the most important jewels for Corpse to care for. 

He pulls up the DM and pauses at the video picturing nothing but a dark cover. Temptation wins him over though, and he’s playing the video before he knows what he’s doing. 

Corpse expects laughter—maybe Dream baiting Sykkuno into saying a swear word. Bribing him, convincing him—anything. 

Anything but—

A rustle—sheets, sliding together. Heavy breathing and whispering. Dream, faint and yet loud all the same, calling out to whoever else is in the video. 

_“Come on, baby,"_ Dream says, husky and the lowest Corpse has ever heard him. _“Use your words.”_

No. No, it—this can’t be what Corpse thinks it is—

But it is. Distantly, he hears it—another voice, soft and melodic— _Sykkuno—_ begging to Dream, _“Please please please, Clay—I need—harder—“_

Fuck. _Fuck._ Corpse's hand trembles where it clenches around his phone—cold metal of his rings digging into his skin. His other hand stays in a death grip around the armrest of his chair. 

More rustling—the move of skin on skin and heated breaths, Sykkuno’s moans building up, Dream encouraging him, until—

_“Fuck—Fuck, please—Clay, I’m so_ close _,"_ Sykkuno practically cries.

He sounds—he sounds absolutely _sinful_. Wrecked. Ruined. Perfect, taking whatever Dream’s giving him, and begging all beautifully like that. Corpse swallows. His phone shakes in his grasp. 

_“God, you should look at yourself,”_ Clay hisses. _“You’re a fucking mess, all full of me. What would people think, huh? If they could see you?”_

Corpse groans. _Dream, you son of a—_

_“Oh God,”_ Sykkuno cries. _“Clay—Clay, I’m almost—_ shit _,”_ he breaks off.

The recording stops. His phone clammers to the ground, slipping through Corpse’s shaking fingers. Someone’s breathing harshly, and it takes a moment for Corpse to realize it’s him. 

“Corpse?”

He snaps his gaze to his screen—where Dream’s Among Us avatar scoots closer to his. 

Damn it. _Damn it_ , Corpse curses violently in his head. He’s still streaming and he can’t—he can’t just end it here, can’t click stop recording and reach down and— _and fucking touch his achingly hard dick._

He tries to compose himself—probably fails miserably, but he doesn’t give a shit anymore. Runs a hand raggedly through his curls and nearly punches the unmute button as he growls out a hoarse, “Yeah, I’m—I’m still here.” 

Dream, the utter bastard, asks, “Really? You were gone for a while. Did the recording wow you or something?”

As if he doesn’t fucking know—as if he wasn’t the one to record—to _make_ Sykkuno let out those sinful sounds. 

“You could—you could say that,” Corpse croaks out. Dream chuckles. Chat spams like crazy. 

“Keep this between me and you, yeah? Sykkuno’s shy,” Dream replies. “Don’t think he’d want this out.”

_Like Corpse would let anyone hear this—hear_ Sykkuno _._

“As long as you send this to no one else,” Corpse turns right back, intent dark. 

Dream hums again. “I—Oh, Sykkuno!” Instantly, Dream switches into a brighter tone. 

You could hear the smile on Sykkuno when he greets back with an equally cheerful, “Dream! And Corpse too!” He giggles—all softly and adorable and Corpse—Corpse kinds of wants to die. “Have you guys been here the entire time?” 

“Yeah, yeah, Corpse and I were just sharing some things. Weren’t we, Corpse?”

Corpse—Corpse can’t. He’s still fucking hard, his phone—the video—is just inches away from him, revealing and addictive, and—and Sykkuno, all concerned as Corpse delays a response when just minutes ago he was listening to him desperately beg and swear for more—

“Corpse?” Sykkuno sweetly asks, worried. “Corpse, are you okay?”

_No. No, I’m not. I’m hard, you’re so fucking addicting, I want to run over to your house and get on you, under you, in you—_

But Dream’s here. A hundred thousand people were here—watching and listening as Corpse’s world falls apart. 

So, like the coward he was, Corpse leaves with a, “I’m not—I’m good. S-Sorry, but I have some tasks, so I’ll just—”

Hears a belated, “Oh but, C-Corpse—!”

“He’s fine, Sykkuno,” Dream intervenes. Even the way he says his name—slow and gentle, but low—speaks volumes. “He’s just dealing with a gift I left him.”

For the rest of the game, Corpse avoids Sykkuno like the plague. Just his smooth voice alone, trickling pleasantly into the shell of Corpse’s headphones, has his mouth drying and dick aching with the memory of how that same voice gasped so beautifully. 

He ends stream not too soon after that. 

* * *

Sykkuno frowns at his computer screen, tilting his head. He ended stream a couple of minutes ago, logging off with grateful messages and his usual speeches to his chat before signing out. 

Now he’s just sitting here, wondering if he did something wrong—what with the way Corpse was not so subtly ignoring him as hard as he could throughout their group’s Among Us games. 

“Was it something I said?” Sykkuno ponders to himself. 

Arms slip through his from behind, bending down to bury their face within the crook of his neck. “No,” Dream murmurs into Sykkuno’s skin, warm lips brushing at the line of his jaw. “You didn’t do anything wrong at all, Kuno. He was probably just out of it today.” 

“Are you sure?” Sykkuno layers his hand over Dream’s where it's plastered across his stomach (and ignores the voice inside his head sounding suspiciously like Toast ranting on about possessive idiots). “I know he goes through a lot; we didn’t put a strain on him today with our lobby, did we?”

For some reason, Dream chuckles. Sykkuno—again—ignores the way it sends shivers down his spine. He also ignores how much he likes the way Dream closes in around him even more. 

“No,” Dream murmurs. “I don’t think we put a strain on him at all.”

**Author's Note:**

> [\- i.n.](https://twitter.com/inonwriting)


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